You've Got So Far To Go
by David Frickin' Tennant
Summary: Jack and Ianto get their date.  Rating subject to change.
1. Is That A Yes?

**Title**: You've Got So Far To Go

**Author**: David Frickin' Tennant

**Disclaimer**: Okay, honestly. If I owned Jack, Ianto, or anyone from Torchwood, would I really have to write fanfiction to give them the bloody date I wanted them to have? No. So it's kind of obvious that I don't own, so don't sue. xoxo.

**Rating**: T. It may escalate; we'll just have to see where it goes from here. If it does, I'll warn. Promise.

**Summary**: Jack Harkness takes Ianto out on that date he asked about.

**Note**: This is basically canon. All the dialogue you see here is from episode 201 "Kiss, Kiss, Bang, Bang." All the description is my interpretation of their movements. There's obviously some other stuff I put in, but yeah. This chapter is kinda pretty much entirely canon.

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><p>Jack Harkness was nearly power walking down the empty corridor. He was followed in silence by Ianto Jones, who kept a steady pace behind as Jack pulled open the doors that led to their destination; though, "yanking" was probably a more accurate word for the way he pulled open the second door.<p>

He slowed his steps as he stood in the doorway and took in the atmosphere of the environment he now found himself in. "Oh, yeah," he mused, meandering his way around desks with computers on top. "Lovin' that office-y feel. I always get excited in these places. To me, they're exotic. Office romances..." He swung his arm around a white pole—which, he presumed, was to aid in holding the building up—and leaned against it. "Photocopying your butt. Well, maybe not your butt; although, as we're here, why don't we photo-"

Ianto, who had taken the liberty of rummaging through papers and other office supplies, didn't want him to finish that sentence."The rift was active," he interjected, placing his hands on a desk and standing from his crouched position, "these coordinates, approximately two hundred feet above ground. That means this floor...or the roof." He made his way around to the other side of the desk and continued to sift through the items strewn across the work area.

The Time Agent straightened slightly, the playfulness induced by his love of offices gone. "...how are you, Ianto?"

Ianto turned to face him, but only for a moment."All the better for having you back, sir," he replied, turning away and walking to the other side of the room to continue his search.

"Can we maybe drop the 'sir' now?" Jack moved away from the pole and shifted awkwardly on his feet. "I mean, while I was away, I...I was thinkin'...maybe we could...y'know, when this is...all done. Dinner. Movie..." The words were coming out in a jumbled mess as he watched the tea boy pace about, putting his hand on his head in slight frustration. Jack's usual calm and secure demeanor was fading quickly, and he wasn't entirely sure why._ Perhaps_, he thought, _it's because Ianto looks so good in that pink shirt_.

The Welshman stopped and faced Jack. His hands found a place on his hips as he attempted to comprehend what Jack was saying. "Are...you asking me out on a date?" he asked slowly, almost in disbelief the words were even coming from his mouth. Jack wasn't one for romance, after all...

"Interested?" Jack pulled his head back in attempt to force some ounce of confidence out of his body.

"Uh, well...as...long as it's...not in an office." Ianto's words were somewhat choppy and arrhythmic. "Some fetishes should be kept to yourself." He made his way to another desk, almost as though he was trying to avoid further awkwardness.

"Looks like we're gonna hafta go through every drawer, bin, and plant pot!" Jack mused as he slowly advanced toward Ianto, pausing every few steps to admire the ambience of the simple, yet colorful, décor. A quick, nervous chuckle found its way into the air around them.

"Right, okay. I'll do the floor; don't want you gettin' over-excited." Ianto smiled lightly when he looked at Jack, who didn't seem amused by the comment. "You take the roof; you're good on roofs..."

Jack nodded and started toward the door to do as Ianto had asked. It wasn't every day he would take orders from someone else, but given the circumstances they were under at the present time, it seemed best not to ask and just do.

"Jack?" Ianto called. Jack stopped just as he was about to slip out the door. "Why are we h-helping him?"

"He's a reminder of my past; I want him gone." He gave Ianto a look that could be read in a million ways. In this instance, it was the "end of discussion" expression, as Jack wasn't going to reveal more than he absolutely had to.

Ianto had no choice but to accept the explanation as given; he obviously wasn't going to get any more out of the other man.

Hand on the door, Jack made to leave again, but turned around and quietly asked, "By the way, is that a yes?"

"Yes," Ianto replied quickly. He repeated himself, a bit softer, almost like he was trying to convince himself that the entire conversation just happened.

Jack smirked, impressed it had gone over so well. He kept his composure until he was out of Ianto's sight. Once he was sure the other couldn't see, however, he practically skipped down the hall, shaking off the butterflies that were still flying around in the pit of his stomach. Ianto said yes. He said yes! Why had he been so nervous? There was seemingly no reason for him to have been the wreck he felt like inside; he knew Ianto would say yes. If he didn't, well, that just wouldn't be right. What if he had...? Oh but he didn't. And when he said yes—twice, for that matter—it was just the cutest thing, and...

He took a breath and pulled his coat tight around his body. Why he had done that, he wasn't sure, but it seemed to calm the nerves slightly.


	2. You're A Bit Overdressed

**Title**: You've Got So Far To Go

**Author**: David Frickin' Tennant

**Disclaimer**: Okay, honestly. If I owned Jack, Ianto, or anyone from Torchwood, would I really have to write fanfiction to give them the bloody date I wanted them to have? No. So it's kind of obvious that I don't own, so don't sue. xoxo.

**Rating**: T (for now).

**Summary**: Jack Harkness takes Ianto out on that date he asked about.

**Note**: Okay, wow. I'm not even kidding you guys when I say that this is the quickest anything I've written has gotten so much attention. I opened my computer today to seven messages about people either watching me as an author or watching this story, and I got one about a review. This is a hell of a lot more than I usually get, and I just wanted to thank each and every one of you. Enjoy this chapter; I'll start working on three tonight.

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><p>Four days later, Jack wandered into the Hub. "Alright, everyone. Go home for the night."<p>

Tosh took a glance at the clock at the bottom of her computer screen. "Jack, it's six o'clock. You never let us go at six."

Gwen nodded, leaning back in a chair. "She's right. Got a hot date?"

Jack laughed. "As a matter of fact, I do. Now go home. All of you."

Ianto's face fell slightly, almost in dismay that Jack hadn't added onto his command. He got his things together slowly as he criticized himself for thinking that a date would actually happen. He should have expected this; it was too good to be true. It wasn't like he had actually planned on it, though. He'd just had a hope that Jack would want to be seen in public with him when it didn't involve business.

Heavy heart in his chest, he cleaned up the coffeemaker and made for the door, not even batting an eyelash when Owen tripped over something in his haste to get out. Usually, that would have been a laugh for him, something he could use to poke fun at Owen for about the next week or so, but that really wasn't the case for him any longer.

He made his way out into the car park and began his walk home. He hadn't lived very far, and he always enjoyed walking home, even if it was at night. Especially if it was at night, actually. Ianto loved taking scenic ways home, watching the water toy with the streetlights of Cardiff. It was beautiful. On a clear night, which was rare, the stars reflected in the water as the ripples caused by wind or tiny tides would make the lights and the stars dance together. Sometimes it would take an hour or two, and his legs would hurt by the time he finally made it, but it wasn't like he had anything else he really needed to be doing.

His phone started ringing with some God-awful default ringtone he'd never bothered to change. He didn't even look at it, just flipped it open and put it to his ear. "Hello," he droned, in a voice that sounded less like a "hello" and more like a depressed answering machine: _Hi, you've reached Ianto Jones. I think right now I'd rather be dead._

"Well don't you sound chipper," an American voice sounded in his ear.

"Jack."

"Hey, go home and change into something more appropriate for a dinner-and-movie date, okay? You're a bit...overdressed for the occasion."

"Uh...what?"

"Geez, Ianto, I would figure you'd be more happy and excited. Are you feeling okay? I thought you've been waiting for this and all."

"I am. I just...why didn't you tell them it was with me?" Ianto asked sadly. He scuffed his toe along the concrete as he walked, digging in his pocket to fish for his keys. It was a nervous habit; the jingling of keys was just one of his many quirks. Though, to him it was rather calming.

"I don't think it's any of their business, that's all. Our relationship is for us, not them."

_Not like it's too much of a secret..._ he thought. _Everyone's seen us kiss. There's no doubt they've heard us when we..._ Ianto shook his head and nodded. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

In his office, Jack shifted in his chair, putting his feet up on the desk. "So get something nice on—but dress down," he said with a smile, "and I'll see you around..." He trailed off, turning to look at a clock. 6:15. "Think you can be ready in fifteen minutes?"

"If you'd like, yes."

"Good, 6:30, then. I'll be there to pick you up. What do you want to eat tonight, Ianto?"

Ianto hadn't given it much thought. In all honesty, he was fine as long as it wasn't something...fast like they had in the Hub. "I don't have a preference," he murmured. "You know what I like, Jack. Though, can I request that it isn't..." He paused, attempting to find the right words to describe what he _didn't _want. "Hub food? I can't tell you how sick I'm getting of pizza. I mean, it's good pizza, but I don't know how much more cheese I can eat until—"

"Absolutely. I've got a place in mind."

"Yeah." Ianto continued to fish through his pockets, finally getting his keys as he reached the steps to his building. "I'm at my building now, so..." He made his way to the third floor, and fumbled with the brass doorknob. The key stuck. "Are you bloody kidding me?" he murmured, swearing under his breath.

Jack couldn't help but laugh. "Need a little extra time, Ianto?" he asked cheekily.

"Not funny, sir."

"Hey, I said drop the sir."

Ianto finally managed to jam the key into the lock and push the door open. "6:30," he said, kicking the door closed behind him. "Which vehicle should I look for?" _Please don't be the SUV..._

"Not sure yet. You'll know, though. How many people are coming down the street at this time of night?"

Ianto kicked the door shut and walked across to the other side of the flat, looking out one of the white-trimmed bay windows. "A lot..." he mumbled. Of course there were a lot of people coming around. He lived in a decent flat in the middle of Cardiff. It wasn't exactly the smallest city in Wales, neither in size nor population.

"Well, you'll know it when you see it. I can toss pebbles at your window, if you'd like. We could _Say Anything_ it up. I'll even hold a boombox."

Jack's proposal brought an adoring smile to the Welshman's face. "Well, if you threw pebbles at my window, that'd be _Romeo and Juliet_," he corrected. He began rummaging through his closet to find something more appropriate for their date, settling on a plain white button-down shirt and a pair of comfortable—yet sophisticated—dark-wash denim jeans. "And knowing you," he said with a small chuckle, "you'd toss a boulder and break my window."

Jack laughed. "I don't even know which window would be yours."

"Even worse." Ianto struggled to hold the phone to his ear between his head and his shoulder as he and Jack joked. He was finding it difficult to dress himself; sure, he had been extremely good at multitasking, but every so often, he dropped the phone and would have to struggle to pick it back up.

"You know, Jack," he said as he fumbled to unzip his suit pants, "I'm going to go so I can dress. I'm still expecting you around 6:30. Don't be late." He grinned.

"Is that a command I sense, Ianto Jones?"

"It might be."

"Well then. I'll try not to disappoint. I'll see you in ten minutes."

"Not the thing to tell to a man with a stopwatch, sir," Ianto murmured as the phone clicked on Jack's line. He hit the button at the top of the watch and smiled, then changed his clothes.


	3. Rolled Up Sleeves Look Good On You

**Disclaimer**: Okay, honestly. If I owned Jack, Ianto, or anyone from Torchwood, would I really have to write fanfiction to give them the bloody date I wanted them to have? No. So it's kind of obvious that I don't own, so don't sue. xoxo.

**Rating**: T. But there is a mention of an erection in this chapter, so...be warned.

**Note**: Today made eighteen messages. Four reviews, ten story alert notifications, three _favorite_ story notifications (which kind of just really blew me away), and one author alert notification. I know you guys really don't care about this sort of stuff, but it makes me feel like I'm doing something right here. The delay was mainly because I hated everything I had created for a day, but I finally regained confidence in it. Thank you all for the kind words; I love every one of you. And Reese's ice cream for Robert (Ragnarock45), who was pretty much my beta, telling me of my grammatical errors, and aiding in things that I failed to notice in the preliminary read-throughs.

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><p>Jack made his way to Ianto's flat, zipping through the rush hour-clogged streets of Cardiff with ease. He'd picked a black sport bike for the date. It was classy enough, he thought, yet it was unique. At least, he had never seen anyone take their date out for dinner on a "crotch rocket." At a stoplight, he glanced down at the address he had quickly scribbled down from Ianto's official Torchwood file.<p>

Richmond Road. Jack managed to find it after a few minutes of searching and parked near what he presumed to be the correct set of buildings. They were made of gray stone, which looked slightly weathered. The trim around the windows was painted a stark white in contrast, though they looked slightly orange in the glow of the streetlights that were just starting to turn on for the evening.

Jack took a guess and picked a building, making his way up to the third floor. "300..." he murmured, scanning the doors as he walked past. "305...no...310...no..." He mumbled little things to himself about the numbers, attempting to reason out an approximate location. It took a few minutes, but he finally worked out that the numbers went by fives and, logically, the fourth door should be...

"Found it!" he announced in triumph, striking the cherry oak door with two knuckles.

Inside, Ianto was pulling on his other charcoal Converse All-Star. He heard the rapping on the door and swore under his breath, hopping across the flat as he tried, in vain, to tie his shoe as he moved toward the door. "Hang on a second," he called. He stopped to look at his stopwatch. "You've got two minutes!"

"You really started the stopwatch, Ianto?" Jack mused, leaning against the door. "Really?"

"Sometimes you like to show up late. If it wasn't for me, you'd get nowhere on time."

Jack only laughed. "Hurry up."

"You're a minute and forty seconds early!"

"Don't complain!"

Ianto hit the small button once more and finished tying his shoe. He cracked the door just enough so he could get out, and slipped into the corridor.

"Well don't you look incredible," the Time Agent said softly. "I like the rolled up sleeves, Ianto. They look good on you."

Ianto blushed. "Ah, yeah... Thank you." He stumbled over his words. "You look good, ah, too."

Jack grinned. He hadn't changed at all, figuring his slightly informal style of work dress was acceptable for all occasions. He hadn't even swapped out the coat. "Ready?" he asked, holding his hand out to the young tea boy, who took it gently. Jack led him down the stairs and out the door into the cool Welsh night. He stopped in front of the bike. "This is our chariot for the evening."

Ianto took one look at the bike and shook his head. "Oh, God. Jack, are you crazy? Has your ancient brain gone mad? I really don't think that's a good idea-it's not a good idea for one person. Let alone t—why are you laughing? This isn't funny!" He had seen motorbike accidents. They weren't pretty, and he didn't know if Jack could even drive one of these things.

"Hey, I got here fine, didn't I?"

"I don't know if you took a spill! You heal almost immediately!"

Jack only chuckled. He examined the uncomfortable expression that had spread across Ianto's face. Sighing, he pulled the tails of the coat underneath his body and swung his leg around the body of the bike. "C'mon," he coaxed, patting the space behind him. "I won't kill you. Promise."

Ianto was hesitant, but he did as Jack requested, carefully sitting on the bike. Jack handed him a helmet, and he put it on cautiously, double-checking everything he could to ensure it wouldn't fall off. He sat straight, holding onto the sides of the bike.

"Okay, Jack," he said softly. "I'm ready.

"You can hold onto me, Ianto. It's okay."

He slid forward on the seat and pressed his body to Jack's, wrapping his arms loosely around his waist. Jack started up the bike and started into his lane, and flicked his wrist, accelerating quickly. Ianto let out a yelp and tightened his grip around Jack's body, resting his chin on his shoulder and closing his eyes. They opened only to glance at the world that flew past them, which looked more like sleek and smooth waves of light rather than anything that had been built or inhabited. He wasn't sure where they were. He had no idea how Jack could have had any clue where they were going, where they were, or anything of the like.

They came to a stoplight and Jack put his foot on the ground to stabilize the bike. "You okay, Ianto?" he asked with a smile, turning his head so he could watch the other out of the corner of his eye.

Ianto bit his lip and flipped the helmet visor up. "Yeah. Just...not used to riding on these things."

"I can tell." Jack winked.

A blush came to Ianto's cheeks. He knew exactly what Jack was referring to. Straddling the motorbike was still new to him—he'd only ever ridden one once, and decided it was a bad idea—and the vibrations of the bike beneath his body were sending little jolts through his body. Ianto had noticed about three miles into the journey that his pants felt a little smaller; as the trip went on, the smaller they got. It was slightly uncomfortable and he was extremely embarrassed. Before Jack could make a comment, he flipped the visor back down and forced himself to sit so his pelvic area was away from Jack's body, for fear of making his condition worse.

Jack took off as soon as the light switched to green, and within a few minutes they had arrived at St. David's Shopping Centre. Jack guided the bike into a parking spot that was close to the sidewalk, shutting it off and pocketing the keys in his coat. "Ianto," he began with a laugh, "you can let go now. We're here."

"Oh, right." Ianto let go of Jack's waist and pulled the helmet from his head. He stood and placed it on the seat. He ran his hands through his hair as Jack stood and straightened his coat out. They exchanged a small smile and Jack led his date into Prezzo, a hand pressed gently between his shoulder blades.


	4. You're Mine Tonight

**Disclaimer**: Okay, honestly. If I owned Jack, Ianto, or anyone from Torchwood, would I really have to write fanfiction to give them the bloody date I wanted them to have? No. So it's kind of obvious that I don't own, so don't sue. xoxo.

**Rating**: T.

**Note**: I'm sorry this took forever. I worked on this every day for more than a week. I just had to make myself happy with it. I'm a perfectionist; I have to make sure everything is just so. That being said, if you still love me after I've made you wait so long, I'd love to hear what you think. Thank you, again, to everyone who has read it so far and has been following it since the beginning. All of you are amazing and I love you all. 3 Also, Jealous!Jack is a lot of fun to write. So is Nervous!Jack.

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><p>"Jack Harkness," he greeted with a smile. "We spoke on the phone; I made a reservation."<p>

"This way," a tall man who appeared in his early 30s replied, gathering two menus and walking toward a dimly lit seat near a window.

Jack had shrugged off his coat and was carrying it over his arm. He followed the host to their table, Ianto close by his side. They weren't touching each other, though Jack made sure to graze his knuckles gently against Ianto's hand every so often. The two exchanged quick, tiny smiles with each other as they walked.

"Here you are," the host said with a warm smile.

Jack pulled Ianto's chair out for him just enough so he could sit, then pushed it gently to the table. The host placed the menus on the table and left as they settled themselves in. Jack smiled at his date, taking his seat across the table.

"Order whatever you want," he encouraged, watching Ianto's eyes move slowly across the words printed in pretty calligraphy. "Money isn't a factor."

"Arancini."

"Ara-what?"

Ianto laughed lightly. "Arancini. They're these little balls of risotto and they're coated and cooked to be crispy and they have cheese inside."

"I take it you've had them before?"

He nodded. "I have. And it says so in the menu."

Jack grinned at him, looking through his own menu. "Minestrone sounds good. What do you want for the main course?"

A waiter came to their table before Ianto could answer. According to the little metal strip on the front of his stark white shirt, his name was Zane. He was more than attractive, and Jack surmised he was in his mid-20s, around Ianto's age. He was tall and thin. His hair was a strange shade of blonde—it looked like there was some red in there, too—and slicked back neatly.

"Good evening. My name is Zane, and I'll be taking care of you tonight," he said smoothly, smile on his face as he allowed his moss-tinted eyes to look Ianto over. "Could I start you off with something to drink? Maybe some wine?" He smiled at Ianto, shifting his weight a bit closer to him, eyes still fixed on him—specifically, his eyes.

"Water," Jack answered gruffly, eyebrow raised. Zane looked him over and nodded, writing down his order.

"Being responsible, I see."

"Well," Ianto started, sensing Jack's discomfort. "It's just that we're not sure what we want just yet, and it would be kind of silly to order wine before we know what we'd like. After all, red wine goes well with certain foods, and I wouldn't want us to be out money for a wine that doesn't go with the food."

Zane smiled. "A connoisseur, I see?"

"Nope," Ianto replied humbly. "Just a man who knows his spirits."

The young man smiled and continued to make eyes at Ianto as he took down their orders. His hand scribbled quickly, making sure he hung on every word Ianto spoke, just in case he mentioned something special he wanted done to his appetizer. He gave Ianto another smile, told them their drinks would be out in just a moment, and walked away.

Ianto returned the smile, attempting to be polite, and returned his gaze to the menu on the table in front of him.

"...should we request another waiter?" Jack asked, his irritation cutting through the air—and Ianto's concentration—like a knife.

Ianto brought his eyes up from the menu to study Jack's face. "Do I detect jealousy?"

"No. I just don't think it's right for someone to be hitting on my date when I'm out with him."

He only laughed, resting his chin in his hand as he continued to scan the menu for something that sounded good. "Pollo mariano," he mused, reading the description. "That sounds really good."

"Were you missing for what just happened right now?" Jack asked, eyebrows still furrowed. "He was hitting on you."

"I know he was. I was ignoring it, though. C'mon, Jack, neither of us will see him again."

"But it's the fact that he was hitting on you. You're mine tonight."

Ianto blushed and looked back to the menu. "What are you gonna get?"

"Fuss..." Jack stumbled across the syllables. Italian wasn't a language he was particularly well-versed in. He had dated this opera singer once, who serenaded him every morning in Italian, but he never knew what any of it meant. He was always blissfully confused, and that was all right with him. He hadn't cared much for words; it was the sex that kept him around. It also helped that the singer was very easy on the eyes. "The chicken, bacon, peppers and tomato stuff."

"Fusilli alla Rusticana?" Ianto guessed. The words fell off his tongue, drenched in that thick accent. "Is that what you mean?"

"Yeah. That. That's what I mean. I mean, that's what I want." He breathed in deeply, trying to shake off the knots in his stomach. Where had his confidence gone? He'd been on dates before. He was around Ianto every day. They worked together. They shagged often. It wasn't like he was on one of those blind dates—if he had been, he'd just use some pick-up line to get his date in bed and that would be the end of it.

This was something different. He wanted everything to be absolutely perfect and in place. It had started off well, but he wasn't fond of this Zane character in the slightest. His crystal blues narrowed as their server came back with two glasses of water and another smile and look for Ianto.

_He didn't order that..._ the voice in the back of his head mumbled. _So stop bringing it. Poor service._ A thousand thoughts were bouncing around in the folds of his brain. His stare was putting holes into Zane's body as he flirted with his date, leaning against the table and making cute little gestures, offering to make a special adjustment on Ianto's pasta because he hadn't wanted fusilli and wanted penne instead...

It made Jack sick.

"Sir?"

A voice broke him from his thoughts, which had been toying around with the idea of somehow getting RetCon into the waiter's body. His eyes shot up to see Zane looking down at him, friendly smile still on his face as he asked, "Have you decided what you'd like, or do you still need a minute?"

"The, uh, fussy rustic stuff."

Zane nodded in understanding as Ianto corrected it for him, just to be sure. Jack's mind wandered off again and he vaguely heard Zane complimenting Ianto on his Italian pronunciation.

Ianto only smiled and said that he'd had a lot of practice because he had a lot of free time, and Zane countered with a suggestion of finding someone to spend some of that free time with. Ianto replied with a soft glance to Jack and a smile, then verbalizing that someday it would happen, he just wasn't sure when.

"So what kind of wine would you like this evening?"

Ianto looked at Jack. "We'll have the chardonnay. Please. A bottle."

"Excellent choice," Zane replied, winking at Ianto as he walked away, pad in hand.

"Jack. Please snap out of it?" he asked when Zane was gone.

"I can't help it."

"Just don't think about it."

"I can't help it."

"Help it? For me?"

Jack sighed. "I'm sorry, Ianto. I just don't like it, that's all. It's not that you're getting attention. God knows you deserve it. It's that you're getting attention from someone who isn't me. And I'm not into that."

Again, Ianto's face flushed. He never did take compliments very well, especially not from Jack. Nevertheless, he smiled and folded his arms on the table in front of him, leaning toward Jack slightly. "You're very different outside of work. It's surprising, really." He moved his arm to rest his chin in his hand.

Jack grinned. "Why?" he asked, leaning forward as their wine and appetizers were presented.

"It just is." Ianto straightened as the plate of crispy risotto-and-cheese spheres was placed in front of him. "It's a good different, though. I like it."

The smile held as Jack poured two glasses of wine, sliding one to Ianto gently. Their fingers brushed as Ianto picked up the stem of the glass, clinking it lightly with Jack's.

"It tastes like peach," Jack said as he took a sip. "Wasn't expecting that."

"I like it." Ianto cut one of the arancini apart with his fork and held it out to Jack, who took it from the shiny utensil.

"I see why you like those things so much," Jack mused with a smile. "They're incredible."

"Told you."

It took them at least two hours to eat their meals, chatting about everything and anything they could think of between bites. Every so often, Jack would reach across with his fork and steal something off Ianto's plate—just a little something—and grin as he ate it. Sometimes Ianto would inch his hand forward just to graze one of Jack's fingers with his own. Their fingers linked for a moment, then retreated back to a wine glass or a napkin.

The two leaned slightly over the table, just to get a little closer to each other. Jack hung on every word that flowed off Ianto's tongue and vice versa.

They had already ordered their dessert—a vanilla pannacotta they would split, as Ianto wasn't exactly the most fond of sweets—and a second bottle of wine when Ianto had to get up. "I'll be back," he assured with a smile and a slight pat of Jack's hand.

Jack smiled back. "Don't be too long," he said softly as he watched Ianto's back growing further away from him as he made his way to the restrooms.

The restrooms were at the front of the restaurant, and Ianto had to walk past a small lounge area where Zane and another man were sitting and having a conversation. _Well that's good,_ Ianto thought. _Jack had nothing to be upset about. It wasn't me; he's just like that. I'll have to tell him that when I get back to the table._

"I think I'm gonna give the cute guy in the corner table my number on his bill. Should I?" Zane asked the other waiter, a man who looked quite a bit younger. He was a tall and slim brunette who wore rectangular wire glasses over blue eyes. His hair was short and cut close to his head, and some stubble grew in on his chin and upper lip. His accent was similar to Jack's, and Ianto assumed he was an American who had come to Wales for university. He must have worked at Prezzo to pay the bills.

"He's got these amazing eyes. They're like sapphires. And the way he places his orders is amazing. He actually knows what he's talking about."

Ianto blushed, slipping out of sight, yet still within an earshot. That was something he hadn't heard before. Were his eyes really that color, he wondered? He'd never noticed.

"Sounds like you found a catch," the other one replied, looking Zane over. "Wait. Which table did you say he was at again?"

"The one over in the corner. It's all dimly lit and everything. Nice atmosphere they have going on there."

Ianto raised an eyebrow as he heard a grunt and footsteps. It was Zane's coworker, peering over at Jack's table. "Oh. Zane, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but they're here together."

"Well, yeah, they're at the same table."

"No, I mean, they're here with each other for a reason." The waiter went back to his seat, the leather squeaking slightly as he placed his weight on it. "They're together."

"What? No way, Robert. No way."

Robert sighed. "Have you _seen_ the way they've been looking at each other the entire night?" he asked. "They've got it bad for one another."

Ianto didn't pay attention to the rest of the conversation. Did that man—a complete stranger—really notice that? Did Jack really seem to have it that bad for him? He grinned to himself, shoving his hands in his pockets and continued to the restroom, his head swimming, his face lit in the truest happiness he'd ever possessed.


	5. How'd You Do It?

**Disclaimer**: Okay, honestly. If I owned Jack, Ianto, or anyone from Torchwood, would I really have to write fanfiction to give them the bloody date I wanted them to have? No. So it's kind of obvious that I don't own, so don't sue. xoxo.

**Rating**: T. They get all macky in this chapter, so if you're offended by that, I guess I'm sorry, but..you had to have seen that coming.

**Acknowledgements**: As always, Robert has been my biggest help with this chapter, as he's my lovely beta. But this time around, I also had some help from two very lovely people on Tumblr. So many thanks go to Pearl and another lovely human I know only as remuslives23, who helped me figure out just how Ianto would taste. And I would like to thank Andrew for aiding in my pigmentally-challenged quest to figure out which gemstone to use to describe Jack's eyes.

**Note**: Okay, I honestly hate James Bond films, with the exception of _Quantum of Solace_. Or maybe it was _Casino Royale_. Whichever it was, I liked that one. That being said, I've got no idea about the accuracy of the movie's details, so please don't kill me (I honestly only know the title sequence because I looked it up on YouTube). Also, I'm not making excuses for this being so god-awfully late, but I'll just say that I hate my writing program and I want to kick it in the face because I had to rewrite this from the beginning at least six, maybe seven, times. Thank you all for putting up with my failure to be consistent in updating time, though! It makes me feel like you actually love me and this story.

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><p>The second bottle of wine was finished, the cups of coffee that paired with dessert were empty, and one garnet-coloured raspberry remained in a small puddle of decorative syrup. Jack picked it up gingerly, pressing it to Ianto's lips. A tiny ruby bead glided from the fruit and slipped down the contours and ridges that made up his fingers, finding a new place in the crevice between them.<p>

Ianto took it meekly, watching Jack lick the drip of the berry's juice from his digits. It was sweet and a little bitter, and it seemed to melt on his tongue the instant they came in contact with one another. Ianto grinned, allowing himself to savour it, taste buds taking in every little detail of the fruit. The two held eye contact the entire time, Ianto's sapphires locked on Jack's blue diamonds. They spoke softly to each other, touching fingertips gently. It was an entirely chaste display of affection; something strange, but definitely welcome.

Jack heard nothing but the sound of Ianto's voice as he rambled about his love for James Bond. He poured His father had all the novels in awful condition. The spines were breaking, the pages were yellow, and some of them had been damaged in a flood of the basement. Nevertheless, his father kept them, perhaps for sentimental value.

Ianto explained that he had been a rather exuberant child. He was sociable, for the most part. But there were those times when he just wanted to be with himself and the imaginary, exciting worlds that thrived between the flaking covers. The books smelled like mildew, and every time he opened one, he gagged a little, but he let his eyes scan the tiny black print regardless of the odour.

James Bond had been his idol.

"A couple months before my sixth birthday, my dad took me to see _License to Kill _at the cinema," Ianto gushed. "My mum was mad at him for a week."

"Isn't that a bit of a dark movie for a kid to see?" Jack asked, taking a shot in the dark. He had never seen any of the Bond films. He'd read reviews and made plans to see them, but never got there.

"Yeah," Ianto admitted, "but I loved it. That was the first time I'd seen a James Bond movie on a really big screen. That was kind of all I cared about." He grinned.

"Which one's your favourite?"

"_On Her Majesty's Secret Service_."

Jack nodded, making a mental note, then attempted to remember if that was the title he'd picked for this evening. He looked down at his watch and stood, grabbing the bill. "We gotta go; we'll be late."

"For?" Ianto questioned, following Jack to the register.

"The movie."

Jack paid the bill, careful not to let Ianto see how much they'd spent. He slipped his coat on and placed one hand on the small of Ianto's back, guiding him out the door and into the cool Welsh crepuscule.

The cinema was only a few blocks away, and Jack had timed it so they had time to walk. However, they ended up talking through dinner and two bottles of wine and it had eaten into his walking plans. He pushed the helmet down on Ianto's head gently and grinned. "Think you can handle another ride on my motorbike?"

"Of course," Ianto agreed with a smile, flipping the visor down. He watched Jack get himself into place, then took his own spot behind him. He wasn't shy this time around. He leaned forward, his chest and stomach nestling close to Jack's body, his arms wrapping tightly around his waist.

Jack kicked the bike into gear, taking off down the street. Ianto straightened slightly when they had gotten up to speed, and stretched to look at the speedometer. He drew in a breath, brain interpreting that Jack was going dangerously fast. The operator only laughed, making a hard turn onto one of the side streets, zipping down a dark street.

They arrived within a few minutes. Jack let his arm snake around Ianto's waist, gently pulling the other man's body closer to his own, though not close enough to make the motion appear contrived or controlling. Ianto blushed, greeting the affectionate gesture with a small smile. Jack flashed a trademark grin as they walked through the entry to the corridor that held the screen rooms.

"Excuse me," came a female voice. Or perhaps it was male. Jack wasn't sure. He turned to see a short, kinky-haired, bespectacled woman dressed in cinema-worker's attire. It wasn't flattering on her stocky figure, but she couldn't help that, Jack realized. Blue polos with white ties and black slacks didn't look good on anyone.

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry, I just need your tickets for a moment."

"Oh, right." Jack had forgotten about that. He pulled two slips out of his pocket and handed them to her.

"Good choice in movies," she mused, tearing the stubs. She handed the souvenir pieces back to the Captain, who returned them to their former place.

"Thanks," he responded with a smile.

"You're in screen room seven. Enjoy the film, guys."

Ianto nodded politely and thanked her softly while Jack patted her shoulder and told her to have a good night, a wish she returned with a cheery smile before she continued her work.

"Oh, miss?" he asked, stopping as he looked down the halls. "Which way do we go?"

"To the left, all the way at the end. You can't miss it."

Jack nodded and waved goodbye, guiding Ianto down the hall. "Close your eyes," he said.

"What? Jack, I won't be able to see."

"Do you trust me?"

"Well, yeah, but—"

"Just close your eyes, okay?"

Ianto did as he was told with a sigh. Jack placed his hand firmly over his face, leading him into the screen room. Once inside, he removed his hand. The cinema ads were still playing. Good.

They took their seats toward the back of the room. Within a few minutes, the lights went down. The previews for all sorts of new movies coming in the next year flashed on the screen. Each one, Ianto made a note in his head, deciding which movies to see when they came out.

After the obligatory ten minutes of new movie announcements, a beeping, science-fiction-esque noise emanated from the surrounding speakers. A white dot moved across a black screen smoothly, proudly displaying that this was a Harry Saltzman and Albert R. Brooks production.

Ianto knew exactly what it was. "Oh my God, Jack," he breathed, grin spreading on his face as James Bond's silhouette moved through a scope, turned, and fired a shot that made the screen run an aging, rusty hue."You actually got a showing to _Dr. No_. I can't believe it! This movie's ancient; how'd you do it?"

Jack smiled. He'd never seen Ianto that happy about anything—not even coffee."That's not important." He pressed a gentle kiss to Ianto's temple, then straightened and turned his attention to the screen. "Just enjoy it."

The first bit of dialogue hit and Ianto was already mouthing the words. His eyes twinkled in delight, almost as though he were reverted to his childhood, seeing the film for the first time. Jack couldn't help but glance and see that youthful enthralment on his face, smiling to himself as he watched Ianto's happy motions; his lips moving as he recited every word from memory.

Approximately twenty minutes into the movie, Ianto laid his head on Jack's shoulder. The wool of his coat scratched against his face slightly, but he really didn't mind. It was more than comfortable; like laying on a pillow. Jack's shoulders weren't pointed or bony, and that made for an excellent place to lay one's head. Ianto nuzzled his head slightly, finding its ideal position

Once Ianto had stopped moving, Jack lay his own head like a blanket over the younger man's. It was then he had really taken in the scents that created him.

It was hard to describe. He smelled of coffee, Jack thought, and a little like maple syrup and brown sugar. A very interesting scent indeed, but hard to place. Jack inhaled deeply, taking in every sweet scent he could detect over the smell of stale popcorn and spilled Coke. He had been doing this for quite some time, he realized, as the last thing he had actually paid attention to on screen was James Bond receiving his mission. Now, the screen played the secret agent with a woman, who Jack assumed Bond was going to have sex with.

It seemed like as appropriate a time as ever, he supposed.

Jack sat up, removing his head from the warmth caused by Ianto's hair. His arm had snaked around Ianto's shoulders and he moved his hand to play with the short brown hairs at the very base of the teaboy's neck. Ianto rolled his eyes up to look at him. Jack's head was cocked just slightly in Ianto's direction. Those diamonds were cast down at him. A content and peaceful smile cultivated on his lips. Jack's free hand found its way to Ianto's chin. He tipped it gently, just enough to be comfortable as he leaned in and touched his date's lips with his own.

The kiss was tender and sweet, and Jack could still taste the faint remnants of the wine, the pannacotta, the raspberries... And the flavours that were always there. Ianto had a distinctive taste, Jack found. He was permanently coffee-flavoured. But there were traces of mint and salt and something else that Jack couldn't place. It was mysterious and strictly _Ianto_; he'd never tasted anything like that element. And it kept him coming back for more.

Ianto moved closer, his lips moving to lock Jack's bottom lip between them. He felt fingers backcombing his hair, twisting a little in the threads. His held breath passed through his nose. Shortly after, he quickly inhaled Jack's scent, a mix of some of the strongest scents one could find on Earth, most prominently orange and cinnamon.

He still swore it was some sort of aftershave or cologne. No way were human pheromones that strong; that effective.

Jack moved to push the armrest up and pulled Ianto closer. One arm found its way to the small of his back. The opposite hand travelled from his lover's chin ever slightly, cupping Ianto's face, fingers brushing gingerly on his skin.

They stayed connected to each other, lips pressed together, tongues gently wrestling. No longer could either of them hear the movie, as all of their surroundings melted away into a blur; the only audible sounds were that of their breaths, the gentle detachments and reattachments of lips, and a tiny moan from Ianto, which had seemed to resonate significantly louder to them than it had to anyone else within an earshot. They couldn't see anything of their environment—not even the flickering of the bright light from the screen as the scenes changed—through lightly shut eyelids; it was absolute black.

There was nothing but the two of them, joined together in what Ianto had considered the best kiss he'd ever had, with Jack or anyone else. It was gentle and sweet and, dare he even think it, _loving_. But at the same time, it was lusty and firey and sultry. Just the taste of him kept Jack coming back for more, Jack's talents left him hot and bothered, wanting, wanting more.

After what felt to be forever, they pulled away from one another, chests rising and falling gently as the pair attempted to steady their breaths. Their bodies had twisted to face one another, and Jack allowed his eyes to shift along Ianto's features, carefully scanning each detail. He leaned in for one more kiss, this time soft and chaste. No lusting desire, no tongue...just an affectionate touch of the lips that ended as quickly as it had begun.

Ianto smiled and shifted his body back toward the screen. Jack followed suit and pulled the young man close, wrapping his arm tightly around his shoulders once more as Ianto allowed his head to fall against Jack's chest.

He could hear the steady _thump_, _thump_, _thump _of Jack's heart. In that moment, everything was right in the world.

Ianto pulled his legs closer to Jack's, their knees just barely touching, and turned his attention back to the movie, enjoying the constant stroking motion on his shoulder from Jack's thumb.


	6. You Have Legs

**Disclaimer**: Okay, honestly. If I owned Jack, Ianto, or anyone from Torchwood, would I really have to write fanfiction to give them the bloody date I wanted them to have? No. So it's kind of obvious that I don't own, so don't sue. xoxo.

**Rating**: T.

**Acknowledgements**: Simon, thank you for letting Jack yell at you. And, I had this perfect way to describe you all set out, but it ran away when I attempted to write it... Sorry. Also, all of you guys for reading this. Seriously. You're totally faithful and I love it. Thank you for making me feel like all the frustration I put myself through from time to time is worth it. This is my baby. It really is. And I'm, like, the proudest mother on the planet right now. I know it's not the most popular Janto fic out there. It's not especially good, and it's not so bad it's epic. But this is _my _most popular fic, and therefore, I feel like it's the most amazing thing in the world.

**Note**: Oh my God. This is inexcusably late. And I hate myself for it. But I haven't had the most time in the world to work on it because I just started a job and I'm getting hours left and right. So, please be patient with me as I attempt to balance my creative life with my professional life. Time wasn't the only constraint. I literally wrote this ten times and hated it every time. So now I have it at a place where I'm content and I hope you are too. I also apologize for lack of length. Like I said; it took forever to get it to where I actually liked it, and once I was happy, I didn't want to chance much more and screw it up.

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><p>A strong arm wrapped affectionately around his shoulders, Ianto nestled closer to Jack as the movie wore on. He had planted his head in a comfortable spot on Jack's chest and weaved his arm behind the immortal's back, stroking his side gently. Their hands travelled blindly to find one another, fingers weaving together once they were finally united.<p>

Ianto had to laugh at how they must look to other people in the cinema. Then he wondered how many people actually cared that there were two men cuddling after a snog in a screening room. Surely it was normal when a man and a woman did it, but two men was still a bit shocking to some people.

It wasn't that Ianto was insecure. More that he was just incredibly conscious of what others thought. And unlike Jack, who didn't care what people thought or knew, Ianto couldn't help but feel just a little awkward when there were people staring or whispering while stealing the occasional glance.

However, when Jack became aware of any wandering eyes, he would purposely step up the public affection just to get a little bit of a rise out of them.

Jack planted a soft kiss on top of Ianto's forehead. "You fit perfectly..." he murmured, thinking aloud. "So perfectly..."

_That happens when two people are made for each other,_ Ianto thought, smile curling on his lips as the sentence ran through his mind. He didn't dare vocalise it, but in his own slightly convoluted reality, he knew Jack was thinking it, too.

Soon thereafter, the screen blacked out and the credits began to roll. Everyone around them got up and started to make their way out of the room, but Jack wasn't ready to let go of Ianto just yet. Ianto didn't seem to mind, either, and nuzzled a little closer as they were being left alone.

Five minutes passed. Six. Seven. Ten minutes of nothing but cuddling close together and gentle little kisses. No words, just actions; tiny affectionate gestures to each other. Jack played a little with some of Ianto's hair. Ianto stroked Jack's hand lightly with his thumb. Every so often, they looked at each other, and their eyes met and locked for what seemed like an eternity as they each got lost in the other's seas.

A voice broke the trance. "Excuse me, gentlemen, but you need to leave."

Jack looked up at the intruder with a vague annoyance spread on his face. "Why's that?" he asked the boy standing in front of him. Even sitting down, Jack was nearly on eye level with him. He was short and slim, with black hair swept over his eyes in a fringe-style haircut. He wore the same outfit as the girl in the lobby, indicating he worked at the cinema, and it appeared he had a few piercings that his job had required him to remove.

"We're starting another show in just a few moments, that's all."

Jack rolled his eyes, moving away from Ianto. "I know what this is about," he mumbled.

The short boy raised an eyebrow as the Captain moved to stand. "Look," he said, "I don't care what you guys do in b—"

Jack was on his feet and began to ramble, but Ianto grabbed his hand and pulled.

"Jack, stop before you make yourself look like a jerk..."

But, of course, he didn't, and the cinema boy got the brunt of Jack's irritation. Somewhere along the line, Ianto became fed up and left the screen room, making his way quietly out the doors that led to the brightly lit hall.

He'd never been more embarrassed in his life. Everything was fine until Jack had to go and take something the wrong way. Why had he even thought that it would go off without a hitch, that they would just sail through the evening on a magic carpet, watch fireworks in Beijing, and be back with time to spare?

Ianto sighed, making his way to the lobby. He sat on an uncomfortable metal bench and contemplated leaving the cinema, abandoning Jack to sweat it out until he saw him in the Hub the next morning, coffee in hand.

He stopped for a moment to think. Rationality told him there was no reason to do that. The rest of the night had been fantastic. The best night he'd had with anyone since Lisa, actually. And it wasn't like there hadn't been roadblocks along the night, either. There was that bit on the bike, the part with the waiter... What was another speed bump, he wondered? It hadn't changed the fact that Jack wanted to be seen in public with him, and that was more than enough.

He looked up to see Jack standing in the lobby, looking around with a semi-distraught look on his face. He began to mumble to himself and put his hand on the side of his head, scratching at his scalp nervously.

Ianto sighed, shaking his head as he got up and made his way to Jack. He wanted more than anything to ask him what the hell his problem was, but he let it go. He could see in Jack's eyes that there wasn't anything to discuss about the situation, anyway. He knew he'd fouled something up.

That was enough for Ianto, who only sent him a small, endearing smile and held out his hand. "What next?" he asked softly, the little smile still fixed on his lips. Jack gazed at him, confusion spreading on his face as he attempted to understand why Ianto hadn't slapped him in the face. Nevertheless, his hand went to Ianto's, rough, calloused fingers grazing the softer and more supple set.

Jack smiled, losing himself in the seas that were Ianto's eyes. His fingers lay lightly on the other's, and Jack found that he was absent-mindedly fondling Ianto's hands, feeling every crevice, crease, and ridge of his fingerprints. Ianto looked back up at him and found it extremely difficult to look away. Even blinking every so often (so he didn't get that chronic dry-eye Rhiannon was always on about) was difficult, because blinking meant cutting off that beautiful, unspoken connection between himself and Jack.

Jack dropped Ianto's hand gently and smiled again before asking if Ianto was ready to go home. Ianto wasn't sure how to answer that; he most certainly didn't want the night to end, but knew it had to because they both had work the next day. So he nodded, but not before saying that this had been the best night he'd had in a while.

_Since Lisa..._ he added in the back of his mind.

Jack grinned and put his hand on Ianto's back again, pushing gently in lead out the door. He walked to the kerb and found that the bike was no longer there. "You gotta be kidding," he mumbled, staring at the empty spot where he knew he parked it. "Someone stole it."

"You left the keys in the ignition, didn't you."

Jack blinked. "Fuck. Yes, I did."

Ianto looked at him in disbelief for a second, before breaking into a fit of laughter. Jack wasn't amused, failed to see the humour in the event, and stared at him with an eyebrow raised. "And what is just _so_ funny about that?"

"Because," Ianto blurted in the midst of his giggles, "minus the _perfect_ choice of movie and the cuddling in the cinema..." He paused to laugh again, so hard tears began to spill from his eyes and roll down the apples of his cheeks. "This date has been an absolute disaster."

This only seemed to irk Jack even more, and Ianto knew that. He advanced toward him slightly and put his hands on Jack's shoulders, trying to quell his laughter. "Even though it was a disaster, what with the hard-on I had on the motorbike, and the waiter flirting with me throughout most of dinner, and the fight you had with the cinema boy that was so embarrassing that I just had to leave the room, and now the fact that the bike is clearly missing... This has still been the best night of my life." He stopped to laugh again, this time watching Jack's face go from irritated, to confused, to absolutely dumbfounded. And soon, Jack's dumb expression cracked and he started to laugh, too.

"I don't know what it says for your social life that _this _is the best night you've ever had," Jack managed to get out.

Ianto only laughed harder. "I'm not entirely sure, myself."

They laughed together wordlessly for a few minutes, and they were both sure that the people walking around late at night thought they were a couple of crazy people, but neither of them cared. They just laughed about the awful turn of events that had occurred that night. But they both knew they weren't going to change it for the world.

Finally, Ianto's laughter died down as he let out a sigh and wiped the tears from his eyes. "Should we get going?" he asked with a cock of his head.

"How. Taxis don't run this late, Ianto."

"You have legs. I know. I've seen them. So c'mon. We'll walk home."

"Walking Cardiff at night is dangerous, Ianto."

"Please. Our line of work is scarier than the Cardiff night life. C'mon. Let's walk home. Let's be afraid. And enjoy every second of it. Besides, I'm sure you've seen more frightening things than drunk people stumbling around in the streets because Friday night is party night."

Ianto gave him this look. The look Jack could never say no to, so he sighed and smiled, putting his arm tightly around Ianto's shoulder. "But you've got so far to go. You live at least ten miles away."

Ianto shrugged and put his arm around Jack's waist, pulling him south, away from his flat.

He was fancying a walk in the park tonight.


End file.
